A/N: Waycaster: The weight of responsibility? Fret's worst nightmare XD I wouldn't necessarily say he's taking a leadership role. Perhaps volunteering as a sacrifice is a better way of putting it?
One-Eye: He's running alright!
AlexFalTalon: Bartok. Yes. I don't really like him either... And er- yeah. Perhaps too much fluff? What do you think?
Abrahem: That's something that always kind of irked me. I mean, they're on the same side obviously but I wish there were more personality clashes. There are a few notable ones though. Like Brome and Felldoh. Your chapter advice is pretty good! I've kiiinda followed it. I mean I would've followed it completely, but then I decided Remnants was right and I couldn't just leave Fret wherever he is (lake is a pretty good guess) so I stuck his bit here at the end.
I have uploaded a few of Fret and Butch (and FINALLY!) one of Grey Claw! I will continue to draw (got a whole list now- some for other fics too) but likely won't be able to upload anything for the next... week or so... Cannibal escape? I'll do that too. Any and all suggestions are much appreciated!
Speaking of art, MathLuk (here known as Waycaster) has uploaded a cover for BaW on his devianart.
Also er- this might seem a bit random, but we've discussed about about you in the Redwall Forum. Mostly me and Seb... deciding how to make you join... So er- will you join us in the chaos of the cellars?
Sebias of Redwall: Glad you liked it! (The art of repeating cliffhangers returns!) And also glad you found Fret and Butch funny (hehehehe)
Keldor: It is. Very cold XD
Remnants: Your advice is also appreciated. So yes. You and Abrahem are credited with the format of this chapter. And the next.
A bunch of other credits are due here as well! Bloodface and Clawtail are characters devised by One-Eye the Wildcat (because I was too lazy to come up with canon fodd- I mean corsairs! on my own). Ripple Sharkbreath is the property of Sebias of Redwall. One more of One-Eye's characters will show up in the next chapter.
Oh and we meet the Manywhiskers who has had a lot of behind-the-scenes changes done by me... and well mostly Keldor XD So I kiiinda credit him as Keldor's creation.
If anyone else wants to jump on the 'create cannon fodd-I mean corsair!' train you are welcome to do so. I reserve the right to reject characters (we have too many) and they are unlikely to have much of a role/character progression (definetly nothing like what Momchillo and Sharpfur are going through...). But they can be developed characters with complex backstories and whatnot. Optional. Just so yall know about it.
Also a shout-out to lionkingfactsguy3. Because he wanted one and is a good friend :)
"Straighten that silk one more time." Clogg was hissing to the fake Whimper. "And I'll strangle ye with it. Now, straighten up, chest out, like that, yes. Struuut. Good!" The rat rubbed his paws. "Now remember, both of ye." His one eye darted from Bork to the new Whimper with frightening speed. "Speak only when spoken te, do not mention the other Whimper-" He fixed his eyes upon Bork. "Do not get drunk and don't puke either. Be respectful te the other Captains but don't be a pushover neither. Nobeast respects a pushover."
"So if somebeast hits me." Klis began slowly, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "I'm supposed te hit them back, right?"
"Yes." Clogg allowed, after a moment of hesitation. "Just as hard unless they outrank ye."
The ferret continued thinking outloud. "But I'm in charge, aren't I? Don't I outrank all of ye?"
"Not me ye don't." Clogg said, flattening his chest fur and swapping his sea-beaten cape for a newer, shinier one. "An' we ain't in the Snowlands no more. Ye outrank nobeast ye can't throw around."
"I could throw ye around pretty easily." Bork chuckled as he played with the rat's tail. The wolverine's seasickness had subsided enough for him to be allowed at a feast. Which delighted the wolverine. He loved food and had loved it since infancy.
"Me an' almost everybeast else Bork." The rat growled, pulling his tail free of the larger beast's footpaw and once more straightening his chest fur. "But ye can't take down a whole crew by yerself."
"I'm big." Bork pointed out, trying once more to pin the rat tail. The faux Whimper looked on, adjusting his silken wrappings.
This time Clogg was ready for it, and sidestepped the paw. "Ye are. Well noticed. But I've seen bigger wildcats. Give or take ten seasons Bork and there won't be a beast alive that could push ye around. But ye have ten seasons left te wait. So, be patient. Anybeast important hits ye, watch an' wait. They'll grow old, ye'll grow strong, ye'll snap 'em like a twig. Clear?"
Bork grinned and nodded in comprehension, his mind filled with the glorious thoughts of a full stomach and victory. His father might even be proud of him! Snapping beasts like twigs was certainly a very Kingly thing to do.
Clogg turned back to the faux Whimper. The rat smacked his ear with prejudice.
"Forget the silk! It looks fine! Anyhow yer a warlord's son not a princess."
"I know that." The ferret muttered grumpily. "But..." He stared around the ship to make sure nobeast was within earshot, and leaned in close to whisper. "What if they notice?"
Clogg's expression did not change. "Notice what?"
"That..." The ferret was hesitant, and now the reason for all the silk-shifting became apparent. Much like the first Whimper, this beast was scared. Unlike the first, he pretended otherwise to be confident. "That I... ain't... him."
"Who's 'him'? Never heard of this beast before. What are they doing on my ship? Hey you!" He pointed a claw at one of the mute rats Longclaw had lent to him for the journey. "There's a beast called 'him' somewhere on this ship! A stowaway! I want them in my cabin before I return. Oh, and tie 'him' up, will ye?"
The rat nodded, not showing any kind of confusion at the Captain's command, and left to do Clogg's bidding.
"There, we'll have this 'him' dealt with by tomorrow." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Ye don't need te act like anybeast, just be yerself but quieter." Coughing slightly, the rat went back to his normal volume. "Whimper, Bork, follow me. It's time for a feast."
"One more question." Bork stood up and smacked his ever-impressive belly to disguise the underlying tone of nervousness present in his voice. "Since we don't have a large food supply and all..." He'd heard some grown rats complaining about it once at breakfast. Apparently if he kept eating at the pace he did, they'd have to ration the whole ship. And there was no prospect more terrifying for Bork then going on a diet. "How much are we supposed te eat?"
The faux-Whimper facepawed. "An' for a second I thought it might be somethin' important."
Bork felt his ears droop and a growl build up within him. It was an important question! Eating was an art form like no other. But then again, what should he have expected? His father had never been fond of his eating tendencies.
"Aren't you fat enough?" He'd said, more than once. It didn't help that Flayface and Spitteeth always told on him. His father's cronies. Stupid foxes. Telling everybeast how he was stealing from the kitchens... Perhaps that was why he preferred the first Whimper... The smaller ferret had never minded sharing in his stolen food, and Bork (despite the fact that it meant less cupcakes and he loved cupcakes) had enjoyed sharing. Plus, it was a convenient way of getting rid of flavors he didn't like. Whimper hadn't had many preferences.
Bork was not surprised that Clogg had replaced him so swiftly, the rat had an important job to do on the orders of his father and those orders required a Whimper. But if he had been King he'd have waited for the real one to turn up again.
"Ye look scared? What's scary Whimper? Do I scare ye?" His head had hurt much at the time but he remembered the words clearly. He'd remembered the horrible sinking feeling in his gut. His only mate... scared of him... Well he was big. And he had made a snowbeast out of him once. But fear was unjustified! Whimper had no reason to be scared! He had picked the ferret up, determined to reassure him that there was nothing to be scared of. He would never hurt his only friend (of course he wouldn't have said that, or called Whimper his only friend- that was bad King ettiwhatsit- but he'd have meant it).
Then all his drinking had caught up to him and knocked him to the ground. By the time he woke up, Whimper was gone. Likely hiding somewhere.
Hiding from me... Nobeast beforepaw had ever given him a reason to care enough to make up for something, so he wasn't exactly experienced in it. But Bork would make it up to him! He would bring the ferret back something shiny- and something small enough for his little paws. The ferret had in one winter been a better mate to him than his father had in ten. When he became King of the Lands of Ice and Snow, he'd make him his Right Paw. Then they could rule forever and ever, making snowbeasts and eating cupcakes.
Clogg's reply to his question dragged him out of his happy thoughts.
"As much ye can. The Dreaded is hostin' us all, coz his ship's the biggest, an' frankly I don't care much if his crewbeasts wind up starvin'." He winked up at the grinning wolverine. "Eat 'em out of house and home."
Bork grinned, his tail wagging behind him like an over-excited dibbun's. Oh how he hoped there were cupcakes... Pity the real Whimper wasn't here to share them with...
"Wait, yer serious?" Klis looked surprised. "But aren't they our allies?"
Clogg rolled his eye. "Yer ally one day Whimper, is yer enemy the next. I'd rather fight his beasts when they're starvin'. Now enough time wastin'!"
The rat spun on his heel and barked out a few orders. Bork was too busy dreaming of a luscious strawberry cupcake to pay attention properly and the next thing he knew, the Dreaded's ship was sailing besides them.
The Black Plague, or Dark Plague or whatever Clogg's ship was called, was large. The Dreaded's vast ship (appropriately styled 'The Beaded Death' was big enough in Bork's mind, to be a small island.
A fat wooden plank was placed between the ships to form a ramp. Clogg scrambled up it with ease, and upon reaching the top, was met with cheers, applauds and various greetings. Klis followed swiftly, and was met with similar greetings, though less enthusiastic. By the time Bork got to the top, nobeast but Clogg and Klis noticed. The pair helped him with the last couple of inches, and shakily he placed both feetpaw on the boat.
"Ye alright?" The rat asked. He glanced back to make sure the other captains weren't looking. "Stick yer head over the side if there's any emergencies."
Bork nodded, his face already pale green. And he hadn't even eaten anything yet...
Clogg opened his mouth to say something else, but then Scringewhiskers joined them. "Darkhide said I should tag along, that okay with you Captain?"
Clogg waved him away. "No! Go and have some grog or somethin'." The ferret looked mildly disappointed. The rat turned back to Bork and whispered. "If ye prefer ye can go and rest up a bi-"
"Clogg," Klis interrupted, tugging at the rat's cloak. "What is that?" The ferret pointed a claw at a very large advancing rat.
Before any reply could be given, the beast was upon them. Nearly as large as Bork (which was impressive for a rat), and covered from whiskertip to tail in beads of red and green, this was the Captain known to all as The Dreaded One.
"Ye finally showed up I see! Bin waitin' Clogg. Long time no see."
"Yes." Was all the smaller rat said in reply. Then a small, sly smile spread across his face. "I didn't see ye at Longclaw's feast. Busy raidin' someplace?"
"Only the slavepits, hur hur. Ye should see wot some of 'em kin do in bed."
Bork gave Clogg a quizzical look, but the one-eyed rat payed him no mind. And probably wouldn't have answered the question anyways...
"New beads as well. A yeller one, eh? Someplace far south?"
"Far west!" The other corrected, smacking his well-built chest. "I take it ye are Marik's son." He added, nodding in Klis' direction.
The ferret, who had been wrinkling his nose in disgust (the Dreaded smelled foul even by vermin standards), smiled awkwardly when he noticed (which just so happened to be when Clogg trod on his tail). "I-I see my reputation precedes me." He bowed and was nearly sick at the sight of he rat's toenails. "It ain't much compared t-te yers of course, but then again, wh-who's is?"
Turning back to Clogg the beaded rat jabbed a finger at him. "I likes this one. And aha! Longclaw's latest whelp. Fatter than the other two, I see."
Bork's mood soured instantly. If this rat thought he could call him fat and get away with it...
"Smarter too." Interrupted the Black Plague's Captain. "An' hungrier. Now where's this feast ye invited me to?"
Not on to be outdone, the humongous vermin spun round and shouted at the surrounding decks.
Clogg turned to Bork as an array of delicacies (well, as far as pirate cooking was concerned) were brought up from the lower decks and the Dreaded stomped off to greet somebeast else.
"He's a beast ye don't want te mess with."
"But he called me fat!" Bork growled, sharp claws stretching out from his chubby fingers. They were not too long but each was as sharp as a razor.
"An' he can get away with it. Ye know what he'd do te ye if ye picked a fight with him?"
"What?" Asked Klis, sticking his head over the boat in case he was sick. "Kiss his toenails? I can't imagine anythin' worse."
"He can do worse." Was all Clogg said. "Claws down Bork. Yer here te eat, remember? But if we ever wind up fightin' the Dreaded, ye have my permission te send him to Hellgates."
Bork nodded, and sheathed his claws. "One day-"
"Ye'll snap him like a twig." Clogg said grinning. "Cheer up Bork. There's muffins."
The wolverine's eyes drifted to a platter of muffins, his jaw fell open and his mouth watered.
"Bork!" Klis snapped, wiping drool off his headfur. But the wolverine hadn't heard him and barged past the ferret, determined to get his paws on the sweets.
The faux-Whimper was not the only ferret he barged past. Although the second one, a rather tall ferret, pressed a cutlass to his throat."Watch where yer goin' welp! Step on my tail again and I'll gut ye!"
Instead of being scared off, as most beasts and especially vermin would be, Bork brushed the blade aside with his claws and glared down at the ferret. A big beast, no doubt, but smaller than the young wolverine. He opened his mouth to retort, but found that Clogg had a habit of interrupting him.
"Ripple! Nice te see ye matey! Bork, this is Captain Ripple Sharkbreath. Sharkbreath, this is-"
"Bork, son of Longclaw, Prince of the Lands of Ice and Snow and a clumsy fool." The ferret spat, sheathing his cutlass.
The young wolverine turned to his de-facto chaperone, a pleading look in his eyes. "Can I hit him?"
Clogg considered this question for a moment before shrugging.
Before Klis could even ask what had happened (having been too preoccupied with the drool-wiping to notice), Ripple Sharkbreath was stumbling about, clutching at his head. Bork looked extremely satisfied.
Clogg went on, as if nothing had happened. "That weasel over there with the short sword goes by Bloodface. He's yer typical grunt really. See the fat fox over there?" He pointed at an evil-looking (and indeed fat) vulpine with blades attached to his tail. "Clawtail. He's nasty. Best be careful around him. There' a wildcat here too. Goes by One-Eye. Quite young an' I don't know him too well, but ye best stay out of his way jus' in case. I heard that whoever half-blinded him-"
"You are forgetting somebeast Cloggo!" Came a small, high-pitched voice behind the three.
The rat, who had been smiling, frowned immediately. "I was wonderin' why everythin' was so peaceful..." As one they turned to this new voice.
It was a cat. But not a cat or type of cat Bork had ever seen before. Barely taller than Clogg (who was small to begin with, at least, when next to the young wolverine). At least a hundred whiskers stretched out from his nose in what easily could have been an impressive mustache, were they not as stiff and sharp as wires and spread all over his face like a spider's web.
He had an air of mischievous joy about him and a constant smirk plastered to his scarred face.
"Bork, Wimper. The Manywhispers. Or Manywhiskers. Depends on his mood." Clogg said, his voice dry and joyless.
"That's me!" The skinny little feline jabbed a thumbclaw towards himself. "I take it this handsome ferret is no other than Mad-Eye Marik's fabled son and heir?"
Klis stepped forwards, his ears ever-so-slightly red and his chest puffed up like a frog's throat. "I see my reputation precedes me-"
"It ain't much compared to mine of course, but then again, who's is?" The burly ferret blinked, and the Manywhiskers shot him a wink. "No need to get flustered Marik-son! Give or take a season and you'll be more famous than anybeast here!"
Klis went so red with pride that for a second Bork thought he wasn't breathing.
"And what have we here? My, my, my!" The Manywhiskers bowed low enough for his whiskers to touch the deck of the ship. "It is an honour my Prince."
Bork went so red with pride that for a second he wasn't breathing!
Clogg merely looked on, disgruntled. "Thank ye for yer kind words. We're sure ye meant 'em. Bork, Whimper, if ye'd like-"
"I could give the two of you a tour of the ship!" The cat interrupted. "What a splendid idea Cloggo!"
Before the rat could interrupt, the Manywhiskers was besides him and he was in a side hug. "Swallowtail!" The miniature wildcat beckoned over a ferret. "Show these boys the ship while I catch up with my old buddy, old pal-"
"Ye have three seconds te let go of me!"
The cat did so immediately. "Swallow, I'm sure they'd love to see-"
"I don't want a tour." Bork said bluntly. "I'm here for the feast." Brushing past them he stomped over to where the muffin basket was, sat down and began to chew without another thought.
"Aye an'd Whimper here would like me te give him the tour." Clogg added pointedly. "Right? Whimper?"
But Whimper was already out of earshot. Swallowtail had a paw around his shoulder and was talking in the sickly-sweet voice only one of Manywhiskers goons could manage. Klis however, judging from the way he was staring at her, had been caught, hook, line and sinker.
"Ah, young love!" Said the Manywhiskers, wiping away nonexistent tears from his eyes. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Clogg growled. "What do ye want?" He had never warmed up to the Manywhiskers. Well he had at first, it was easy for an inexperienced young rat to fall for the words of a flatterer, but it had not taken him long to realize that the supposed wildcat was the 'old matey, old pal' of everybeast. Including sworn enemies. He knew worryingly little about the black-pawed feline. He looked nothing like any wildcat Clogg had ever seen, and was small even for a runt of one.
The flatterer had the audacity to look hurt by the question. "Isn't it perfectly normal for somebeast to want the company of an old friend?"
"We ain't friends. Now answer the question." Clogg demanded, his eye narrowing.
"Fiiine. I just wanted to let you know that..." He leaned in close and whispered. "Somebeast's trying to do a mutiny against you."
Clogg's eye narrowed further. "Who?"
The Manywhispers drew back and shrugged. "Somebeast. I just know that you're in danger and thought you might like a warning."
"Ye know somebeast's plottin'. But ye don't know who it is." Came the rat's voice, dripping with skepticism. "Ye just so happened te be sittin' somewhere ye couldn't see, eh?"
"Couldn't have said it any better myself." Clogg was sorely tempted to break his obnoxious teeth. "Anywho, nice catching up to you Cloggo. Enjoy the feast. Oh, and avoid the gravy- Bloodface spat in it."
Swallowtail was an exceptionally pretty ferret maid. Quite tall, and with eyelashes as long as her (admittedly short) claws. She walked with a certain sway that worried and excited Klis in equal measure. On the one paw it was rather appealing. On the other it probably meant she had a malformed hip, or a battle wound. Perhaps somebeast had trod on her footpaw causing her to limp?
"An' this is ma cabin." She purred, and the tone of her voice made his fur stand on end. "A may be par' of the Manywhisker's crew, but 'e told me te stay aboard the Dreaded's boat. Not a bad captain, the beaded rat, but he sure as Hellgates stinks!"
Klis chuckled. "You're right about that. Have ye seen his toenails?"
She tittered, and it made him blush. Why did it feel so hot all of a sudden?
Brushing past him she gently shut the door. "Yer a son of Mad-Eye Marik."
"I'm the son of Mad-Eye Marik." He purred confidently, for Clogg was not here to tell him otherwise.
She smiled. "I've heard so much about ye. How yer jus' like yer dad- better with a sword though." She pointed at a cutlass hanging off the wall. "I bet ye could beat anybeast with somethin' like that."
"I- I could." He agreed, too busy staring at the cutlass in awe to notice that she was inching closer.
"That sword right there, is yers. It's Marik's sword." She said, coming uncomfortably close.
The younger ferret whistled. "It's mine now ye mean! I- I mean... it's in yer cabin an' all-" Klis finally noticed what she was doing when she shoved him backward. He raised an eyebrow and fell into a conveniently-placed seat.. "What are ye doin'?"
"I've heard so much about ye Marik-son." She said, coming uncomfortably close. It was a different kind of hot now.
"I-I- what are ye-" Came his garbled voice, filled with nervous tension as she leaned in closer. His heart began to beat in worry.
"What's yer name Marik-son?" She purred, her paws beginning to unwind his precious silk.
"It's Kliiiiiiis." He purred as one of her paws reached behind him and stroked the back of his neck.
"Klis, eh?" She said, with a sly smile on her face. The stroking stopped abruptly. "Well let's see what ye can do." She grabbed at his silk, but looked surprised when he smacked her paw away. Momentarily she glared, and he looked away.
"S-sorry. It's j-just. N-nobeast touches me silk. A-an' I'd appreciate it if ye got off-
"Shhhh." She whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I'll be gentle."
"I-I-I like yew gentle," Klis giggled.
The door burst open abruptly, and in stomped Captain Clogg. It was hard to say which ferret looked more surprised. Klis swallowed audibly at the sight of the rat's narrowed eye.
"Out." Was all the rat said in response. As soon as she left (pretty quickly, all things considered- his tone left no room for argument) he clapped. Slowly, with a smile on his face that could only be described as patronizing. "Well done Whimper. Well done Marik-son."
Klis had the grace to go a darker shade of red as he raised himself back into a normal sitting position.
"Ye are an idjit."
"I-I- w-when I sai-"
"I can impress the Captains! Ye said. Show 'em I'm exactly like Marik! Ye said-"
"I only ever said that te impress ye." He mumbled, staring at his feetpaws.
Clogg smacked himself and dragged a paw over his face. "Ye have got te be the biggest idjit on this ship. What do ye think she wanted, eh?"
Klis considered this for a great deal of time. "Er- not sure."
The rat laughed. "Lemme tell ye. She could've wanted ye dead. Pretty easy te kill a beast as stupid as yew, don'tcha think? Alone. In a cabin. Unarmed."
"I've got me claws."
Clogg ignored him. "She could've wanted ye te give her somethin'. Maybe even marry her. Except marryin' some random ferret coz she knows where te find yer sweet-spot is exactly how ye loose the respect of everybeast around ye."
"I don't have a sweet-"
The rat did a rather excellent impression of Klis' purring. The ferret felt likely to spontaneously combust. Such was the heat of his shame.
"Ye have a lot te learn Whimper." He shook his head despairingly. Then he sighed and motioned for the ferret to budge up. It was a surprisingly large chair and the two of them could sit in it with ease. "Ye said ye wanted te impress me. Why?"
"Well... yer Marik's right-paw. Or at least ye were."
"An'?"
"Yer- well, ye knew what he was like an' all. An' I know I ain't really Whimper- but I am Marik's-"
"Not this again."
"Son! A-an' well, ye were his matey an-"
"Aye. I was. Ye wanna impress me?"
Klis nodded.
"Keep yer mouth shut an' don't go off by yerself, an' especially not with anybeast that isn't Bork or me. Ye got that?"
Once more, the burly ferret nodded. He was surprised when the rat ruffled the fur between his ears (annoyed of course, but if that was the extent of his punishment he considered himself lucky). "Good. Now let's head te the feast, Marik-son."
"I thought I wasn't related te him in any way, shape or form." He grumbled, rising to his feet.
Clogg scratched at his chin. "Yer not Whimper. That's all I know. But remember, te everybeast else-"
"I'm the runt. Yes." Klis said with a roll of his eyes. "Where'd he even go? An' ye know me an' him are half-brothers, right? Coz he's Marik's son an' I'm Marik's son an'"
Clogg tuned him out and rolled his eye. Where on earth had Darkhide found this one?
Fret regretted his bravery the second Butch let go. In truth, a small part of him had been hoping the baby beaver would be disobedient and cling to him. Perhaps it had been a large part of him. In any case he was sliding through the ice now. It was cold and wet, like the throat of a serpent (and he had far too memorable an experience with one of those) and offered no traction. Down and down he went, his ears ringing with the word 'three'.
SPLASH!
Fret felt himself sink several feet, before splashing back to the surface with a gasp. The water was near-frozen and bit at his fur like a thousand shards of glass.
"Fretch?" Came the distant echo of Butch's voice.
"I'm f-f-fine!" The ferret shivered, desperately kicking at the water to keep his head above the surface. His eyes began to adjust to the near-darkness of the subterranean pit.
"Fretch?" Butch's voice came again, terrified.
The water was so cold and he was so intent upon his paddling that his voice, barely a squeak, had gone unheard.
"Misder Fretch? Fretch? Fretch!?"
It broke his heart to hear the beaver babe's voice, but the ferret had other priorities, chief amongst them was getting out of the water.
He kicked and paddled against the icy surface, searching for land, or at least anything that would help him remain afloat. It was just his luck to land in a lake. Or a well. Or whatever this was.
Why did I have to be a hero? His paws found no purchase on the icy walls, there was no ground beneath his feetpaws and it was cold. Risking my life for strangers. In hindsight he should have waited for Clogg's potential rescue... Drowning was probably better than whatever the toads had planned for him, but now he was needlessly throwing his life away.
Desperately he paddled in the opposite direction. He needed a bank, a riverbed. Shallow waters, anything!
"The Gloomer lived in a deep, dark cavern beneath Kotir." Came Abbot Martin's voice from the back of Fret's own head. "An eel." He went on with a different lesson. "An eel is like a snake Matiya, but more aquatic."
So many monsters... Fret felt his heart sink and patter as his numb paws met another cold wall with nothing to cling to. Not even a ledge for him to get his bearings from. The Gloomer had been killed by the Stormfin pike, but if such a greatrat lived in this darkness Fret was doomed, for he had no pike to come to his rescue. Eels were trickier. Martin the Warrior had met one, and it had of course tried to eat him. But the mouse had been clever and bargained with the beast, turning it on the frogs that had sacrificed him to begin with. Pity I'm not Martin the Warrior... Any eel he encountered would skip the needless chatter and just fill up on ferret.
The third wall he found was as empty as the others and Fret let out a whine. His limbs were beginning to ache. He was not a good swimmer and the water sent shivers down his spine. "This- this isn't fair! I'm good! I'm doing good!" He was not sure who he was talking to, Butch likely couldn't hear him anyways. But it was unfair. The goodbeasts got away with everything. Any monster they faced was easily slain. Any vermin they fought, defeated. And Fret, who had struggled so hard to get so far, found in the darkness that he was not a goodbeast. No matter what he did, life would always drag him down.
He felt like crying again. He was going to die! Panic came with the realization. It was the snake incident all over again. He was going to die, in the middle of nowhere, alone. He would be forgotten, not even a footnote in history. Constance would never cradle him again, his Nuncle would never give him another gift... Momchillo and Snakeskin would never find him. After a hundred seasons the ice would freeze around his skeleton, and he'd remain forever trapped. Alone, friendless, miserable.
He was so lost in thoughts of his demise, that he only realized he had dragged himself out of the lake when a small gust of wind set his fur on end.
Shivering, he was dragged back into reality. A tunnel lay before him, as dark as the lake. Fret shook himself as dry as he could and wringed his tail free of water.
"No time to mope around." He growled to himself, loathing his own petty weakness. "Find Snakeskin and Momchillo, rescue Butch, go home."
He set off at a run, guided by thoughts of some terrible monster ready to rise from the lake. On all fours he slunk along the darkness, sniffing desperately at the air to try and get a bearing. He could not hear anything beyond the splash of his paws against the wet ice and the frantic beating of his heart. He could not smell anything but his own stink- returning with force after his impromptu bath. Sweat slipped from his brow to the edge of his muzzle and dripped onto the ground as he ran.
I'm lost. He thought to himself, and that thought was frightening enough to make him stop. The lake had just been the beginning. There were monsters within these walls too, and the frogs he was so desperately trying to evade. It would all be forfeit if he ran into them now. And then they'd store him in a tiny cage over a fire...
Shivering, the ferret continued at a more natural pace, trying to get his heartbeat steady. He would be fine. He would survive. Butch would be fine. And Snakeskin and Momchillo would be fine. If they had abandoned him they were already far out of harm's way...
"If. They're probably just tomorrow's sacrifice. Stupid bats." If only Butch hadn't pulled him off the grey one. Fret had a lot of inner anger to let loose and he could not think of a better target. Except maybe Slimegut... "Stupid frog. Marik's son. Just because I can write..." Mumbling seemed to give him strength, or at least, the familiar sound of his echo, once more around him, helped soothe his nerves. The sound of his pattering heart, did not!
Edit: I went back and toned it down a little as you suggested Abrahem. Er- I'm sorry if I weirded you out there. I er- didn't think I was going too far. Honestly not something I'm interested in. This isn't one of my interests. I'm sorry if I scared you off- I mean I was going for uncomfortable, but I suppose I went too far. Just wasn't sure what it 'reads' like. So I changed the Klis scene a bit. Hopefully it's better? I wanted to show that Klis is stupid. It's also a bit important for the plot- and you'll see why in the next chapter.
Also, please do elaborate further on the drawings.